


An Ultimatum

by pencilguin



Series: Fictober 2018 [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 03:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16632485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pencilguin/pseuds/pencilguin
Summary: [Spoilers for season 1] In the mirror universe, Lorca confronts Stamets and tries to coerce him into joining his coup attempt against the Emperor.





	An Ultimatum

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on Tumblr as part of the Fictober 2018 challenge. Unbeta'd; I apologize for any mistakes that might still be in there. 
> 
> Content warnings: physical assault, vomiting.

Paul Stamets was retiring from a very late and very endless shift in his lab aboard the Emperor’s palace ship and dragging himself back into his quarters. Work had been far from going well, the condition of the mycelial network kept deteriorating and he still hadn’t figured out a way to fix it. On top of that, the Emperor had requested a selection of new weapons for him to develop, and he knew better than to treat her “requests” as anything but orders. There were never enough hours in the day for all the work he needed to get done, but he was already dead on his feet and the risk of falling asleep anywhere on this ship outside his private rooms was not one he was willing to take. 

He let out a long, exhausted breath as the door slid shut behind him, and started to remove his armor, peel off his gloves. 

“Hello, Paul.” 

His heart nearly stopped. 

Out of the shadows stepped Gabriel Lorca, the smug grin on his face a promise of big trouble. 

_Fuck._

How? How had Lorca gotten in here? No one else was supposed to have access, least of all _him_. That thought was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing question, though: _Why?_

“S-sir?” He cursed himself for stuttering, for showing weakness, for the fact that his gaze flickered over to the table where he had left his knife and phaser. 

Lorca stepped uncomfortably close. 

“Please, no need to be so formal. Call me Gabriel.” 

Paul retreated a few steps. 

“After all, you’ve been digging around in my private affairs quite a bit lately, _Paul_.” 

Oh _fuck_. Lorca knew. 

“What are you talking about?” Paul retorted, cringing inwardly at the way his cracking voice betrayed the cracking layer of fake confidence. He took another few steps back until his heels bumped into the wall behind him. 

Lorca surged forward and grabbed him by the throat, slamming his back against the wall. 

“You know fucking well what I’m talking about, Stamets,” Lorca snarled, his face so close now that Paul could feel his breath on his skin, and it made his hairs stand on end. He smelled like whiskey and kelpien soup. “You’re good with your little nerd technology, but not good enough to wipe the traces of your snooping around in my private correspondence.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” Paul choked out, struggling against the slowly increasing pressure on his windpipe. “It was an accident.” 

“Your little ‘accident’ seems to have been going on for several days now, _Paul_. Stop lying.” 

The way he kept saying Paul’s name, like an angry father reprimanding his child, made his stomach lurch. 

“I—once I saw what it was, I couldn’t stop—” 

Lorca narrowed his eyes. “Of course you couldn’t, you nosy little bitch. What did you find?” 

“Tha—that you’re trying to overthrow the Emperor,” Paul gasped out, and Lorca lightened his grip a little. He couldn’t stop himself from adding, “That’s never gonna work. You’re gonna die, just like everyone else who has tried.” 

“Not if I have a good plan.” There was an evil glee in Lorca’s eyes that Paul didn’t like at all. “People like you have no imagination. But me? I’m a visionary. I can picture the future, Paul Stamets, and the future belongs to the ones who _make_ it happen, who know what they want and take it.” 

Paul would have rolled his eyes if he wasn’t still so terrified of his windpipe getting crushed. Finally, Lorca let go of his throat, resting his hand on the side of his neck instead; still much too close for comfort. 

“But even if you don’t get it, there are still ways in which you could prove useful to the cause.” His voice was lower now, but even icier than before, if that was possible. “Help me, Paul. Work with us, and the future will belong to you, too.” 

Paul swallowed, more audibly than he would have liked. 

“You want me to help you overthrow the Emperor,” he said slowly. “What if I refuse?” 

He shuddered as Lorca’s hand slid up and stroked his cheek in a mock affectionate gesture. Withdrawing was not an option, his back was already pressed to the wall, the fabric layers of his uniform drenched in cold sweat. 

Lorca’s voice was quiet and full of feigned sweetness when he responded, “You don’t really need me to answer that question, do you?” 

Paul was going to throw up. He slowly shook his head. 

Lorca smiled coldly. 

“ _Good._ ” 

At last, he let go and took a step back. Without bothering to sugarcoat his threat, he said, “I am counting on your cooperation, Lieutenant Stamets.” And with that, he walked out and the door closed. 

Paul remained where he was for a few seconds, rooted to the ground and shaking violently. Then he rushed to the bathroom, where his stomach aggressively relieved itself of its contents. 

After he’d cleaned himself up, he stumbled to his bed and sat down. His whole body was still shaking—from the invasion of his safe space, the assault on his personal space, the threat on his life—and his mind was racing. 

Helping Lorca was the last thing he wanted to do. “The future will belong to you, too.” Fuck that. He had no doubt Lorca would kill him anyway the first chance he got, because they never had trusted each other, and Lorca _hated_ him. Well, _that_ feeling certainly was mutual. Besides, he was doing well under the Emperor. She’d seen his value, funded his research, and even let him work on his personal projects on the side. He had some standing here on this ship, was no longer a mere, insignificant scientist, some mushroom nerd whose life’s work was ridiculed by most and dismissed by nearly everyone. He’d be an idiot to risk all that for the favor of someone as capricious and unpredictable as Lorca. Even if Lorca succeeded without his help, he’d most likely be done for in the tumults of an uprising. 

But after a threat as obvious as this, he’d have to play along. Pretend to help Lorca, gather information, and then feed it directly to the Emperor. It would even improve his chances of protection from her if a coup _did_ eventually take place. 

And so Paul Stamets made the decision to betray Gabriel Lorca. 


End file.
